She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. ’ Gerald’s eyes never left the girl. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. If not, keep up your spirits. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet.
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